Made
by At A Venture
Summary: Pam and her human do a little roleplay. PWP. Femslash.


_A/N: This fic contains femslash. Taylor's character description is inspired somewhat by actress Brea Grant._

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**Made**

"You have braided your hair," I smiled, admiring the woman as she stepped into the bar. Tonight, she had declined to play the part of a female. The beautiful locks of spun white-gold that twisted from her scalp had been pulled back from her scalp. I loved twisting them through my fingers, brushing them against my lips. The longest of the thin dreads, though, were plaited down her back in a way uncannily similar to the style of my maker.

"Mmhmm," she replied, her intention difficult to read.

"You look different," I added, taking in her figure. She was typically non-feminine, and it was this sharp contrast to my own fashion sense that I found intriguing and attractive about her. She typically wore denim jeans, set low on her hips so that the waistband of her masculine underwear peeked out above them. Her shirts were always tight at the sharp points of her flat stomach, the sleeves rolled up to reveal lithe muscles. Tonight, though, Taylor had chosen a shirt that was loose and tight at the same time. Her small breasts were rounded like a man's pectorals, and her tiny, feminine waist was masked by the wrinkles of black fabric sitting on her hips. The jeans were still present, but the cut was different. Those pants looked so familiar. I could not place where I'd seen them before.

"Pam," she said, looking at me with steely blue eyes, a single dread falling across her forehead with mischievous intent. "I need to see you in my office."

And that was where I'd seen them before. I'd seen them on my maker.

"Yes Master," I whispered, a word I hadn't used to describe Eric in at least a hundred years.

I led her back to the office, empty now that Eric was visiting Sookie at every free moment. We moved through the crowd like a strong current, Taylor following me as though she'd traded in her human feet for wings. I nodded imperceptibly at the bartender, some new guy named Lloyd. He could keep his eye on the place. If anything dire happened, I would just be in the other room, at least physically. Taylor opened the office door in front of me, though I hadn't realized she'd maneuvered past me while I was distracted with Lloyd. She dipped her head to invite me in and shut the door behind us.

"You have been jealous of the time I have spent with Sookie," Taylor smirked, matching Eric's voice and smile exactly. I didn't have to suspend my disbelief much.

"I don't understand what you see in her."

"She's weak. She needs to be protected." She looked practical, as practical as my maker. I had to have her.

"Let me be weak for you, Master. I can play the part of the poor little human." I grimaced.

"No, you cannot. You cannot be anything other than what you are, Pam."

"And what am I?" I looked up at her with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Mine."

Her hands grabbed my arms suddenly and she pushed me backward against the door. I let her take the control, as I often stole it from her. Her mouth fell on mine, and her tongue forged its way into my mouth. I accepted it, letting her know my excitement as my fangs slid partially out of hiding. Her groan of pleasure was guttural, shuddering through her. She stood back from me, her chest rising and falling as she panted. Recovering her composure quickly, her face still as pale as a vampire's, she judged the ugliness of my work uniform. I hated the lacy black garment, and clearly, she did as well. I was out of it in a moment, standing bare as brass in front of her.

"You are a beautiful creature," she smiled approvingly, darting out her tongue to lick her lips. "I'm glad I found you."

"You made me what I am," I replied.

"Hm, yes. You should be thanking me."

"Yes, I should be, M…"

"Eric," Taylor corrected me.

"I should be thanking you, Eric."

I dropped to my knees on the floor, delicately, gracefully. She uncrossed her legs and allowed me to reach up and unbutton her jeans. They were the same brand Eric always wore: Lucky's. They looked good on him, and although I did not appreciate Eric in a strictly physical sense, I knew when a man looked attractive. In the same brand of menswear, Taylor looked like a God. I tucked my thumbs into the belt loops of her jeans and dragged them down her shapely thighs. She'd worn a black men's bikini underneath, something Eric would certainly have worn. I placed a thumb between her thighs and pressed down between her guarded lips.

"If I am not mistaken, Pam," Taylor warned, thoughtfully but not without command of the room, the situation, and me, "that thankfulness is best expressed with one's tongue."

"Of course, Eric," I murmured, trying to accept her order with the annoyance I would have presented to Eric. "What was I thinking?"

I leaned up to bury my mouth between her dimpled thighs, to thank her for siring me. Her hands grasped my hair and pulled, yanking me closer. I lapped at her warm flesh like a child sucking an ice cream cone. My hands reached out to grasp her by the hips. Her heart drummed in my ears, my tongue, my skin. She leaned back against the desk and groaned, riding against me until we were both moaning our hunger. Her voice reached its pinnacle, a desperate grunting that sounded eerily similar to Eric. It only made our intercourse more exciting.

Still holding me by the hair, she yanked me away and switched our places. Clearing the desk of clutter, what little there was, she tossed me across it. Her fingers flew into me, two and then three, an amount as impressive as anything Eric had once offered. She was a piston at my back, one fist still threaded into my hair. My back arched. I ached to bite her, to taste her intoxicating blood. Spicy and sweet.

"Eric," I howled, enchanted by the spell of our play. Was this what it had been with him? I could not remember anything but the moment.

"Yes, Pam?"

The fingers stopped and I looked up. Taylor's heart rate jumped into an even higher gear while I blinked at Eric Northman, standing in the doorway. His amusement was plain on his face, and by the way he'd cocked his hip, I could tell that he was aroused. It was not hard to please men, vampire or human. Sookie appeared at his side, her mouth hanging slightly open. The stark contrast of her femininity against Taylor's masculinity made me even hotter despite the additional male company.

"I was just thanking you for making me, Eric."

"You are most welcome, Pam."

**The End.**


End file.
